society gossip and some scandals. Then there
were some chaffing observations about the Odeon Carpentras,
pisciculture, and prisoners under sentence of death, when there happened
to be any. The disappearance of a packet-boat furnished materials for a
whole year's jokes. In the third column a picture-canvasser, under the
form of anecdotes or advice, gave some tailors' announcements, together
with accounts of evening parties, advertisements as to auctions, and
analysis of artistic productions, writing in the same strain about a
volume of verse and a pair of boots. The only serious portion of it was
the criticism of the small theatres, in which fierce attacks were made
on two or three managers; and the interests of art were invoked on the
subjects of the decorations of the Rope-dancers' Gymnasium and of the
actress who played the part of the heroine at the Delassements.

Frederick was passing over all these items when his eyes alighted on an
article entitled "A Lass between three Lads." It was the story of his
duel related in a lively Gallic style. He had no difficulty in
recognising himself, for he was indicated by this little joke, which
frequently recurred: "A young man from the College of Sens who has no
sense." He was even represented as a poor devil from the provinces, an
obscure booby trying to rub against persons of high rank. As for the
Vicomte, he was made to play a fascinating part, first by having forced
his way into the supper-room, then by having carried off the lady, and,
finally, by having behaved all through like a perfect gentleman.

Frederick's courage was not denied exactly, but it was pointed out that
an intermediary--the _protector_ himself--had come on the scene just in
the nick of time. The entire article concluded with this phrase,
pregnant perhaps with sinister meaning:

"What is the cause of their affection? A problem! and, as Bazile says,
who the deuce is it that is deceived here?"

This was, beyond all doubt, Hussonnet's revenge against Frederick for
having refused him five thousand francs.

What was he to do? If he demanded an explanation from him, the Bohemian
would protest that he was innocent, and nothing would be gained by doing
this. The best course was to swallow the affront in silence. Nobody,
after all, read the _Flambard_.

As he left the reading-room, he saw some people standing in front of a
picture-dealer's shop. They were staring at the portrait of a woman,
with this fine tr